The Unknown
by Scarlett Burns
Summary: Quentin Collins agrees to take part in an unusual research experiment, one that seeks to prove that ghosts are only in one's mind...
1. Chapter 1: Introduction

**The Unknown  
**Dark Shadows Fan Fiction**  
**By Scarlett Burns

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of Dan Curtis Productions and  
no copyright infringement is intended. No money is being made and I promise to return  
them when I'm through, a little less for wear but OK.

The main idea of this fan fic is based on an excellent book I read a few years ago titled  
"Superstition" by David Ambrose.

**Introduction**

The year was 1905 and Quentin Collins was alone, depressed and completely bored. That was probably why he had agreed to such an idiotic idea in the first place. After all he'd been through, why did he want to be someone's guinea pig?

"More Brandy darlin'?"

Quentin looked up at the waitress, a small smile on his lips. The lady's accent was reminiscent of Charity when Pansy Faye had possessed her. The waitress was pretty in a London trollop sort of way, but even she couldn't lift his spirits today. He sighed, sliding the glass towards her.

"Sure… why not."

As she refilled his glass for the third time that night, his thoughts wandered back to yesterday evening. Why did he always insist on making decisions while drunk? It always led to trouble. Although he was loath to admit it, he suspected that he should know better by now.

Taking a sip of his newly refreshed brandy he wondered if he'd ever learn.

'_Imagine! Agreeing to be part of a researchers' experiment into the supernatural. This fool was actually trying to prove that ghosts were only a part of the human mind!'_

The man obviously hadn't been to Collinwood.

Smirking, Quentin gazed into the dregs of his brandy. Obviously, the good doctor didn't know _who_ and _what_ he'd been talking to, either.

A the time, it had struck Quentin funny - in an ironic sort of way - when Mr. Feld had approached his liquor-induced self the previous night. What would that man think if he'd known that he was talking to an ex-ghost at that very moment? A man who'd spent a brief time as a zombie and currently a werewolf in remission?

The mere thought of it made the mischief-maker in him chuckle.

At least it would give him something to do. He'd been bored out of his mind the last few months. Perhaps, he'd even have some fun tormenting the man.

"It's all mind over matter" the scientist had told him, with complete confidence in his theory.

He'd grinned at the pure folly of the statement. "Oh, really? No ghosts haunt you, Doctor?"

Feld then removed a piece of paper from his pocket and scribbled on it quickly, handing the paper to Quentin.

"Come to that address if you are game," he'd said, gesturing to the paper. "I think you'll find it… quite interesting."

The burn of the brandy down his throat brought Quentin out of his reverie. He rolled his eyes. 'Such a fool.'

Hearing the sound of rainfall, Quentin looked out the window and watched the rain drops cascade down the glass; the drops of water glistened in the light from the pub.

Typical London weather.

It reminded him very much of home, a place his thoughts often wandered these days.

He wondered why. He'd hated it there, and he hardly had what one would call fond memories of the place… so why in hell did he miss it?

Collinwood.

The house forever seemed to beckon him, and no matter how far he traveled Collinwood always seemed to be at the end of every road.

At that moment he was reminded of Beth's words…

"Collinwood casts a long shadow."

How right you were Beth, how right you were.

1897. That fateful year seemed like so long ago; a lifetime. Yet it had been a mere eight years.

Paying for his drinks he left the small pub, named _The Ship and Shovel._ It was part of the pub-crawl that followed London's underground circle line.

Deep in thought, Quentin stepped out onto the stony London streets and let the raindrops sober him up as they ran down his face. As he walked the darkened and deserted sidewalk his long coat was quickly drenched, as was the rest of him.

He thought of Lenore, his beautiful baby daughter, who would no longer be a baby. She would be nine years old soon – her birthday in a few weeks.

Did she still look like Jenny?

And Jamison… he'd be all grown up now, turning twenty this year. Would he be like Edward now?

Quentin smiled to himself at the thought; he had spent so much time with Jamison when he was young. Jamison had adored Quentin's stories, and enjoyed the adventurous hikes they'd take on the Collinwood estate. They'd had a lot of fun together, unlike Edward's cold approach to fatherhood. He'd never recalled Edward taking Jamison anywhere, or doing anything with him.

Edward didn't know the meaning of the word 'fun'. No… Jamison was nothing like Edward.

'Jamison was always more like myself…'

Quentin shivered, partly from the cold and partly from the idea that came from that last thought. It had always popped up here and there, relentlessly reminding him of a time he would do best to forget - forever.

No, he would not think about that now. The thought was terrifying to him.

Reaching the Inn that he was staying at, he made his way to his room. Best to be getting at least a little sleep tonight. After all, Dr. Feld wanted to start his experiment with ghosts tomorrow, and he had a feeling that it was going to be a long, long day.


	2. Chapter 2: Meetings and Mysteries

**Chapter 2: Meetings and Mysteries**

He looked up at the small house as he stood on the edge of the cobblestone street. It looked normal enough, but he mentally kicked himself again for getting himself into such a thing in the first place.

Why become part of an experiment to answer a question he already knew the answer to?

Quentin sighed, his breath forming a cloud of mist in front of his face. He rubbed his hands together for warmth. He supposed deep down he knew the answer… he was terribly bored. And for him, boredom was not a good thing… it allowed time for his mind to spiral down into depression which lead to many dark days and nights filled with nightmares and drinking. He was the type of person that always had to be doing something, which is probably why he always inevitably found himself in trouble while looking for an adventure and something to occupy his time.

He was never one to sit still for too long.

Even with his long coat the wind seemed to cut through him. "I hate England." Quentin said flatly to himself as he walked slowly to the door, giving the handle three steady knocks.

A woman answered the door, which Quentin guessed was Feld's maid.

"'Ello. May I help you Sir?" She said pleasantly.

Quentin smiled, "My name is David Towne. I'm here to see Dr. Feld." He said to the maid, using his alias.

"Yes, he's with the rest of the group downstairs Sir." She told him, and gave him the directions to find the room they were in.

"Thank you ma'am."

Quentin entered the well light room to find Dr. Feld with six others, men and women, standing and sitting around a table centered in the middle of the room.

"Mr. Towne, there you are! We've been waiting for you. For a minute you had me thinking you'd changed your mind." Dr. Feld greeted him.

"Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world." Quentin replied, somewhat sarcastically. If Feld noticed, he let it slide.

"Well now that everyone's here let's take a seat and get started." Feld said, not wanting to waste any time.

Everyone took a seat, and Quentin paused a moment taking in the room, before he removed his coat and took the closest available seat, hanging his coat off the back.

"I'd like to start off by some introductions. We'll all be spending a lot of time together during the duration of this experiment so I think we should get to know each other a little better."

Quentin groaned inwardly as he looked at the others around the table, at least he wasn't the only idiot that got roped into this ridiculous experiment. Besides Dr. Feld and himself there were four other men and two women… one of which he took notice to immediately. She was strikingly beautiful with fiery red hair and delicate feminine features topped off with a smooth, milky complexion. She seemed to be in her mid 20s.

'Maybe this won't be so bad after all.' Quentin thought to himself, somewhat cheered up and his eyes stayed on her as Dr. Feld continued to talk.

"As you all know by now, my name is Dr. Alan Feld and I selected the seven of you to help me conduct a most important and groundbreaking experiment into the human mind and… the supernatural."

"May I ask just _how_ you went about choosing the 6 of us out of all of England Mr. Feld?" Quentin asked with his usual instant suspicion. He was more than a little curious as to what his answer would be. The others around the table seemed eager to know the answer to that as well.

Dr. Feld looked at Quentin in an odd way, it was a look Quentin could not describe… and he didn't like it. But the look only lasted a moment, and then was replaced by a friendly smile before answering. "I was looking for a specific group of personalities, people with certain 'qualities'. All of you here today are like night and day to each other. I needed a 'sample', I suppose you could say, of people with different backgrounds, personalities and beliefs. I think I've achieved my goal."

Quentin wasn't satisfied and continued, "And how could you possibly tell our personalities and the other things you look for when you have only just met us."

Another older man spoke up, agreeing with Quentin, "Yes, do explain Dr. Feld. As I recall you and I couldn't have spoken for more than five minutes."

"Well, it's written all over all of you… who and what you are." Quentin looked up when Dr. Feld had said _what you are_. "For instance, the fact that you David are a very insecure and suspicious man is evident by your behavior right now. And you Thomas, that you are interested in knowing all the facts before getting into something."

Quentin shut his mouth abruptly, taken aback. He was still suspicious of the man, his answers didn't quite satisfy the questions… at least not to him. He supposed Feld was right, he had always been a suspicious man.

"So, let's get to those introductions… shall we?" Feld continued. "You Sir." He gestured to the man to his immediate right. "Why don't you start and tell us your name and a little about yourself."


	3. Chapter 3 : Ghosts in the Night

**Chapter 3: Ghosts in the Night**

Quentin sat in his hard wooden chair as he looked at the others in silence.

"Go on, tell us a bit about yourself." Dr. Feld prodded the first man.

The man introduces himself as Eric Hammond. He looked to be in his early 40s. He told everyone he had a wife named Julie and a 14 year old son, Todd.

The next man was the older gentleman who'd spoken before and looked to be in his late 50s. He was married with no children and was retired. His name was Thomas Hoffin.

The third was a rather stern looking woman who immediately reminded Quentin of his sister Judith. She was, not surprisingly, never married and had no children. Her name was Jane Marsh.

Next was the man sitting next to Quentin. He looked to be about the same age as he with blonde hair and green eyes. He was just recently married and Quentin could tell they were still in the newlywed stage where they just couldn't get enough of each other. His name was John Summers.

Quentin was next… 'What am I going to say?' he thought to himself, settling on giving them a censored version of the truth… if he had to.

He noticed everyone was staring at him and spoke up quickly. "I'm uh… David Towne, I'm from America and am new to England."

Quentin stopped, not wanting to say any more. However everyone still looked at him expectantly and Feld attempted to probe a bit deeper.

"So… do you have a wife Mr. Towne? Children?"

Quentin's mind started to slip back into the past and his face clouded over. When he answered his voice was odd… flat. "I had a wife, daughter and son. They're dead."

Quentin surprised himself, telling them his daughter was dead… though it wasn't true. When he said it, he got an odd sensation and even felt guilty about it.

'Damn Feld… why did he have to know about their lives anyway?'

"Oh," Feld replied, seeming embarrassed for hitting a touchy subject so soon. "I'm terribly sorry, I had no idea."

"Oh really. Well how did your perception that worked so wonderfully to choose us miss that little detail?" Quentin said rather bitterly. He knew he was being rude, but thinking about the past always seemed to upset him and besides that… he simply didn't care what Dr. Feld thought of him or his manners.

Quentin turned away from Feld and he found himself looking into the deep amber eyes of the red head, they were filled with sympathy. She was fascinating to him… there was something about her, something unusual, that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

She offered him a small smile and asked him, "What do you do for a living?"

Oh, but she was a sweet thing… he found himself smiling back at her in return.

"I'm a writer."

"How interesting." She replied.

There was an attraction, Quentin was sure of it.

The next man went; he was in his 30s and had chestnut brown hair and brown eyes. He was a lawyer and obviously well off. He had a wife, son and daughter. Quentin envied him… this man before him had all the things he had lost, and quite an attitude to top it all off. Quentin could tell that he wasn't going to get along very well with the man. His name was Gregory Pitt.

Next and last was the redhead Quentin had enjoyed eyeing most of the night. Her name was Sofia Elaina, she was unmarried and had no children. She was a home nurse for an elderly man in London.

Dr. Feld smiled after she finished. "So now that we've all introduced ourselves I think it's time we get to business. We're here to delve into the human mind… the supernatural… and unlock the secrets that both guard so closely. We're going to enter the unknown."

~

Quentin walked along the foggy and somewhat abandoned streets alone, pondering over what happened at Dr. Feld's less than an hour ago. Something was tugging at his mind, teasing him. There was something now quite right about his whole thing… but he couldn't put his finger on what.

He didn't trust Feld.

Quentin reached up and pulled his coat closed tighter, feeling a chill. As his long coat danced in the breeze behind him as he walked.

He thought suddenly of the red head… Sofia. Her image suddenly was flashing into his mind.

He wanted to get to know her better. She was different somehow, different from others and different from himself.

He could sense it, something he'd always had a knack for but a sense that had gotten stronger after he was cursed, among other things… things he didn't want to think about right now.

In 1897 he knew that Laura was no longer the same after her return from Egypt, he could feel it as soon as he saw her that terrible day standing in the drawing room of Collinwood.

A dead woman.

Dead. Ashes. Gone.

But there she was, looking just as she had before, giving Quentin a smugly amused look at his horrified expression. He remembered how much she angered him. Even now, all these years later he could feel his anger rising at the thought of her, and took a deep breath to try and calm himself down.

His thoughts returned to his problem at hand. He needed to stay alert; he couldn't let his guard down around Feld… or any of the others for that matter.

He reached his apartment at last, it was getting late and he was hungry. However he didn't feel like going out tonight… alone… so he scrounged around the small apartment until he found something halfway edible.

Sitting down on the couch he relaxed and chewed on a piece of leftover chicken from the night before as he sipped on a full glass of brandy.

~

She stood before him suddenly and out of nowhere.

A small girl, around the age of 7 or 8. A beautiful little creature with auburn hair and bright blue eyes… where had he seen those eyes before?

Where? Where? Where?

The girl stared at Quentin sadly.

"You left me." She accused. Her voice the echo of loneliness.

Quentin blinked, bewildered and confused. He knew this little girl somehow…. A thought started to take form in his mind.

"Who are you?" he whispered.

But she didn't answer.

She didn't hear him.

She was already gone.

_To Be Continued..._


End file.
